Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from India and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Crooked Eye,
Slick Rick,
Sarah Menescal,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slackers,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Rotary Connection,
CMW,
Rod Modell,
Rekid,
Amon Düül II,
The Offenders,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
John Foxx,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
The Busters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Malaria!,
Unwound,
Schoolly D,
Graham Central Station,
Monolake,
Mad Mike,
Sight & Sound,
The Pop Group,
Fear,
Sound Behaviour,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Qualms,
Crash Course in Science,
Sam Rivers,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultra Naté,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Duran Duran,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Steve Hackett,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter,
Radiopuhelimet,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
X-101,
Anakelly,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sound,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Deakin,
PIL,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MC5,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.